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"Cry Havoc"
By MissAnnThropic
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: None of its mine. I’m just a sad little fangirl that spends her days writing fanfic and watching taped episodes of my favorite shows. :(
Description: The evolution of Trip and T’Pol’s relationship following the events in ‘Harbinger’.
Chapter 22
Jonathan Archer shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably in the Starfleet council assembly hall and wished, not for the first time, that this meeting could have been conducted in regular uniform. Archer tugged at the sleeves of his dress uniform, Starfleet blue but tighter around the chest, made of thicker and heavier material, built for looking good and not for function. Archer could only assume it was an eons-old tradition that service dress uniforms had to be a subtle form of torture.
They were in the main hall waiting for the ruling of Starfleet Command. Admirals Forrest and Leonard, Commander William, and Commodore Raleigh had called Archer and Jasmine forth to hear their full accounts of their Xindi encounters. Now they were in private conference deciding the fate of Earth's campaign against the Xindi.
Archer cast a glance over at Captain Jasmine. She, too, wore her dress uniform, of the new MACO/Starfleet variety (Archer mused, disgruntled, how long this new administration had been in place or, conversely, how quickly it had been accepted for the 'new' Starfleet to have dress uniforms already). Now sufficiently recovered from her injuries, Jasmine was once again impeccably military, full-on MACO down to the crispness of her uniform. She caught his glance and flickered a look in his direction.
Archer pulled at his sleeve again. Jasmine wasn't moving a muscle to shift in her uniform, and he had to admit she looked better in hers than he did in his. Maybe it was the MACO training, or maybe the young, undeniably fit body underneath.
Archer frowned and decided to hit the gym after the council came back from recess.
If they ever came out of recess.
The council hall, built to accommodate hundreds, was all but barren save for two starship captains and a few security guards on the fringes. The rest of Earth had not been told that the Enterprise and Ares were back, nor what had occurred in the expanse against the Xindi. As soon as the two ships hit home port they and Jupiter Station were put under a communications black-out until Starfleet Command could assess the risk to Earth. No one outside the top ranks of Starfleet Command had any idea Archer and Jasmine were on Earth, and they'd been secreted around and guarded to keep it that way. Archer didn't object; he understood the caution. There was no reason to panic the people of Earth who'd been through so much until there was something concrete to tell them, some plan of action to calm them.
Archer came to attention when the main doors opened and Admiral Forrest led the procession back into the main hall. Trailing at the end of the line came Ambassador Soval and his Vulcan aide. Archer made brief eye contact with the recalcitrant man before turning his full attention to the entourage.
Admiral Forrest, Admiral Leonard, Commander William, Commodore Raleigh, Ambassador Soval, and Soval's assistant all took their seats at the bench on a dais facing the middle of the room.
"Captains," Admiral Forrest nodded to each.
Archer straightened and could see Jasmine do the same out of the corner of his eye.
"We've reviewed the information provided by the Ares and Enterprise crew testimonials, your own accounts, and computer logs thoroughly. First, let me say, on behalf of everyone here," Admiral Forrest paused to look a little uncertainly at Ambassador Soval before continuing, "that we applaud you for the service you have done in the name of the defense of the planet Earth. We would all be dead were it not for your courage and heroism."
Archer tried not to grimace or tell the admiral to get on with it, only wished his crew was there to hear the message rightly meant for them more so than him.
"Know that the facts and the consequences of each proposed course of action have been duly considered and analyzed from every angle."
'Which means don't argue,' Archer thought impatiently.
"Based on the data we've been provided from the Ares detailing their observations as to the current state of the Xindi threat to Earth, taking into full account the recent eruption of a full-blown Xindi civil war, it is the council's decision that the Xindi have, officially, ended as an immediate and significant threat to humanity."
Archer blinked despite himself. He had been there for the initial meetings, he'd seen all the logs and scans and statistics from the Ares that the admirals had, so he understood the rationale, but still it was strange to hear the words. Xindi... not a threat. It had been Archer's world for so long, it seemed, that he could barely conceive of a future without that battle always on the brink.
Dead silence had fallen.
Admiral Forrest looked directly at Archer and seemed to try and gauge his response. Archer had only one question. "So what happens now?"
"We're not about to let the Xindi drop off our radar..." Forrest glanced again toward Soval and Archer wondered at the exchange. Surely it had to be a good thing, for Earth/Vulcan relations, that the ambassador had chosen to come and participate in this conference. That he had obviously been given some say in the final decision, evidenced by Forrest's looks, had to be a good sign... Archer hoped. Forrest continued, "The council has decided to permanently assign the Ares to patrol duty on the edges of what was, formerly, the boundaries of the expanse to keep a close eye on the Xindi's activities and immediately report anything that would suggest the Xindi are once again planning to take aggressive action against Earth or her people. The Ares has been given top priority at Jupiter Station for repairs and replacement of KIA personnel. The Ares will deploy for patrol duty as soon as physically possible."
"Admiral, sir," Jasmine spoke. "Under whose command will the Ares fly?"
Commodore Raleigh answered, "Yours, Captain. You've proven yourself in command. You're fit and capable to take Captain Dalin's place."
"Thank you, sir."
Archer wished her well. Despite a lot of disagreements, he knew she'd do her job well.
"What about Enterprise?" Archer asked.
"She'll be docked until the Ares has pushed off, the Jupiter boys will put the fine touches on their previously rushed work, and in the meantime your crew is going to rest. Any transfer requests will be addressed, new recruits will be assigned for the next tour, and after a duly earned leave of no less than a month she'll be sent out again with the primary directive of exploring space and meeting new alien life forms."
Archer almost didn't believe what he'd heard. "Are you saying her days as a warship are over?" Return to exploration, to science, to making new friends among the galaxy's populations. It had been so long Archer had almost forgotten the joy in that mission. In the horror since those first days on the Enterprise he'd grown jaded and cynical of such a harmless endeavor. Like a dream long since lost it was almost surreal.
"We can't guarantee she'll never be a warship again, Captain," Leonard said. "But she'll no longer be expected to stand alone between an alien army and Earth. She'll be a warship only when she needs to be."
"Hopefully not often, when she's not being a tool of science and peace," Forrest added.
Archer felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. Science and peace, the threat of the Xindi over. Quiet parts of him complained, had issues, but for just one moment he'd let himself believe it all and feel utter relief.
"I suggest you update your crews on this decision, Captains," Forrest bade, and for the first time in a long while he didn't seem bone weary. Archer hoped to see the same energy and life return to his crew when they heard the news.
*****
The crew of the Enterprise stood at various vid consoles throughout the ship listening to the ship-wide broadcast from Starfleet Headquarters, courtesy of Captain Archer. In the old (and apparently soon defunct) situation room, most of the senior staff was gathered to watch on the tactical view screen the recorded image of their captain. T'Pol, Trip, Doctor Phlox, and Lieutenant Reed were all paying rapt attention to the message.
"... is over. The Enterprise will undergo a more thorough refit and restock once Ares is underway, then she'll resume her primary mission of peaceful exploration."
T'Pol glanced toward Trip at her side when she sensed a tidal force of confusing emotions, too much for her to understand en mass, roll toward her. Trip kept his eyes locked on the screen but there was definitely something troubled in his expression.
Archer was still speaking. "I've spoken with the admiralty and, for the moment, the communications black-out is still in effect until Starfleet HQ can compose a suitable and requisitely informative announcement to present to the rest of Earth's population in regards to the Xindi. In the meantime, however, Starfleet Command would like the chance to formally express their gratitude to everyone on the Enterprise and Ares crews. There will be a formal dinner in HQ's banquet hall for all crewmen in two days' time. The chief communications officer at Jupiter Station will be coordinating with Starfleet Command to privately contact any family members anyone would like to invite, limit of three individuals. Make sure whomever you invite can spare the time, because anyone in attendance will be kept sequestered at Starfleet Headquarters until the public announcement is ready to be distributed. Admiral Forrest tells me it should be fairly soon, so they won't have to be holed up for long.
"I'm proud of everyone. You have all done an excellent job. I look forward to seeing you on Earth." Archer smiled, as though capable of seeing each and every one of them, then he reached forward and his image vanished.
Reed was the first to speak. "So that's it?" He sounded cautious, almost awed, certainly wary of being hopeful.
"It would seem so," T'Pol replied, and surreptitiously looked in Trip's direction. She still felt conflict pouring through their bond.
Trip faked a smile and quietly slipped from the room.
T'Pol frowned infinitesimally and moved to follow but Reed's voice stopped her and she considered herself obligated to at least remain until he was done speaking. "You think this banquet is voluntary? I bloody hate that dress uniform."
*****
T'Pol eventually found Trip in his old quarters. Since their joining he'd gone there infrequently, usually only to retrieve something he needed. Now, however, most of his things were in T'Pol's quarters, having made the piece-by-piece migration. All that remained was engineering paraphernalia that had not comfortably fit in T'Pol's living quarters and some of the bulkier, unattractive items to which she'd objected. Even the rest of the crew had 'figured out' to stop looking for Trip in his officially assigned quarters. It was a place where no one but his bondmate would know to find him.
T'Pol stepped inside his barren quarters and looked around. It looked unlived in these days. Equipment on desktops and under the worktable, PADDs tossed on the bunk like the inhabitant needn't worry about clearing a space to sleep, the air a little stale for its recent vacancy.
Trip sat on the edge of his bunk, elbows perched on his knees, his eyes cast with an unfocused stare at the far wall.
T'Pol stepped toward him. "Trip?"
Trip sighed but didn't move.
He was hurting, she could feel it.
T'Pol moved to him and knelt down on the ground in front of him. Trip's eyes moved to study her and T'Pol tried to disseminate the crush of feelings he was experiencing, that he was unwittingly giving to her.
"What is wrong?"
Trip leaned back slowly, removed his elbows from his knees, and T'Pol brought up a hand and touched his leg. He'd done this to her once and she'd found it comforting. She also touched him so that he might touch her mind.
The moment they made physical contact his expression eased a little, he gave a small smile, but T'Pol knew the turmoil still within him.
"I don't really know..." he confessed with a self-deprecating shrug.
'Are you not happy?' she queried without words, but even as she questioned she knew it wasn't entirely right. In the jumble of emotion from him she detected joy, relief, but it was tangled and tainted with other feelings that weren't the same and she didn't know what to make of it.
'I am... and I'm not.'
T'Pol waited.
Trip frowned, in such frustration and sadness that T'Pol had to stop herself from rising and taking him in her arms in one of those hugs that humans found so soothing.
'It wasn't enough. I didn't kill enough of them to feel like Lizzie was avenged. She's still dead and too many of them aren't. I heard the captain and I was so mad that that was it, and I was scared.'
T'Pol cant her head curiously. 'Of what, Husband?'
"Myself," he whispered aloud and seemed to search her face for judgment, for recrimination. T'Pol offered none and Trip, for once, seemed unappeased by her acceptance.
"What have I become?" he asked in desperation. "Cap'n tells me this war is over and the first thing I think is that we didn't get to kill as many as I'd like?" Trip looked away from her, disgusted with himself. 'What have I become?'
T'Pol took her hand from his knee, touched his cheek gently, and when she had his full attention she said, "Do not succumb to fear." His eyes glistened needily as he looked at her. "If you don't know what you are let me tell you." T'Pol brushed her thumb against his skin and then her inner voice spoke. 'A good human, a better man, and a great husband. Kind, gentle, strong. Loving, by nature gentle, at heart peaceful. Human: flawed, vulnerable, compassionate, unstoppable. These things are you, and they are not to be feared. Your devotion to your sister makes you better, your anger at her death makes you better. Your sister makes you better, even now. Cast out doubt and fear.'
Trip was shaking as he heard her, almost crying, and T'Pol stood, pulling him up to his feet after her.
At once his arms were around her, his face tucked into the crook of her neck, and T'Pol felt him fall apart inside. Fall apart and rebuild in her arms. "Thank you," he whispered hoarsely.
T'Pol threaded her fingers through his hair and could feel him relax a small degree beneath her touch. The confusion in his mind began to clear and settle.
His arms around her loosened from their death-grip but still they remained; human and Vulcan stood with arms around one another. She heard his thoughts, random and not spoken to her, but loud all the same. 'I'm okay. The Xindi aren't my problem anymore... I'm fine with that. T'Pol's right. There's time, now. Without the Xindi, I can do this right, I can devote myself to this,' and Trip hugged her closer tenderly. T'Pol understood his intention. He meant to give himself to their bond, to her.
T'Pol could think of no suitable response but to promise herself to him just as completely.
Trip's torso heaved with a sigh, he let her go, and pulled back enough to look her in the eye. A small, gentle smile played at the corners of his mouth, and his eyes were alight with affection and that indomitable spirit T'Pol had come to know and cherish so well.
T'Pol's hand, almost of its own volition, moved to his face and traced the line of his jaw. Her link to him and his to her practically crackled and bit with harsh reality at the intimate touch and he smiled a little more. T'Pol's mouth softened, she almost smiled, and she let her fingertips find the contact points.
Trip's hand was next on her face, practiced now with the right place to put his fingers taken from T'Pol's own wisdom, and without speaking to their intent they allowed themselves to sink into each other. In that place of oneness they made the choice, both as one, to consign each separate life into a single glorious one. The Xindi paled in comparison there, and there was peace for it.
*****
Lieutenant Malcolm Reed was up early, or insanely late depending upon one's point of view. He sat over breakfast in the mess hall with a PADD in hand, reconstituted bacon and toast nearly forgotten. The dining hall was sparse at that hour, and later it would be barren as the Jupiter Station shuttles and Starfleet Headquarters' shuttles began to covertly ferry crewmen down to San Francisco.
"Hey, Malcolm," a friendly voice broke into Malcolm's concentration and made the tactical officer look up into the face of Charles Tucker.
"Good morning," Malcolm returned.
"What'cha doin'?" Trip asked as he sat down, with a cup of tea in hand, across from the Englishman.
Malcolm noticed the beverage and looked incredulously at Trip. "Tea?"
Trip smirked and shrugged. "T'Pol convinced me to give it a go, keeps insistin' it's better for me. So, what are ya workin' on?"
Malcolm waved the PADD. "I'm writing an invitation for the banquet to Hoshi's parents."
Trip went still and silent and Malcolm looked down solemnly at his tray.
"Oh..." Trip murmured lowly.
Malcolm nodded. "Starfleet Command offered to arrange the invitation and transportation of the families of crewmen that were killed in action... but I thought it would be better coming from one of us. I think it's right this way. I wanted to invite more of her family, just because I feel like they deserve to be there, but from what I've been told, Starfleet Command plans to clear out Starfleet Academy for a few days and put up all the guests in the dorm rooms, hence the limit on how many people can come."
Trip nodded. After a sad, uncomfortable silence, Trip asked, "Your parents comin'?"
Reed frowned. "I sent notices to my mum and dad, but I don't know that they'll come." He gave a shrug as though he didn't care, and was almost convincing. "Ensign Baird and I have been working pretty much through the night composing these personal invitations to the families of KIA crew members."
"Why didn't ya tell me y'all were doin' this? I'd have helped."
"I didn't want to bother you. Engineering's had more to do with preparing the ship for dry dock than the other stations, and besides... I thought you and T'Pol might be... well, I thought you might not want to be disturbed."
Trip tried not to smile lasciviously at the thought. "I appreciate that," then he sobered, "but I wouldn't have minded ya callin' me out for this," Trip gestured toward the PADD in Reed's grasp.
Reed shifted in his seat a little uncomfortably. "I know, I just thought... well, no telling how the rest of Earth might react to you and T'Pol as a couple once it gets out... I just thought you might like a little quiet time together before things got... complicated."
Trip pursed his lips in sour thought. The two men sat in silence a long time, Malcolm working on his invitations and eating his breakfast, Trip languidly and eventually draining his mug of tea.
Back to Chapter 21
Continue to Chapter 23
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